


Get These Hands

by LaughableLament



Category: Supernatural, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Athletic Sex, Bottom Sam, Community: spn-kinkmeme, Don't copy to another site, M/M, Manhandling, Nipple Piercings, Nipple Play, Rimming, Size Kink, Supernatural Kink Community, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-03 17:55:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21183569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaughableLament/pseuds/LaughableLament
Summary: Dean isn't the only Winchester with a pro wrestling hero.





	Get These Hands

**Author's Note:**

  * For [C_Dot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/C_Dot/gifts).

> Written for [this prompt](https://spnkink-meme.livejournal.com/153418.html?thread=47082570#t47082570) on [SPNKink Meme](https://spnkink-meme.livejournal.com).
> 
> SFW pics of Braun [here](https://www.wwe.com/f/styles/gallery_img_l/public/all/2019/04/156_RAW_04012019dg_2662--76d8cd6ba2e1b27a0b689f12e5ca7ef3.jpg) and [here](https://cdn.newsapi.com.au/image/v1/7c823fd18a1cacef96e54c0063a9ddec?width=650).
> 
> Thank you, nonnie! You are a wicked genius. I didn't know I needed this in my life. ♥

Sam folds up the vintage jersey. Tucks it in a curse box, locks down Jean Pierre Cloutier: hockey minor-leaguer, vengeful spirit.

“Don’t sweat it, Ed,” Dean says. “We’ll take this someplace private, lay him to him to rest.”

“Thanks, boys.” Ed nods, head full of silver hair, still cut in a high-and-tight. “J.P. meant a lot to this community. Real local hero.”

“Just doin our job.” Dean claps the old Marine on the shoulder.

Sam asks, “What’ll happen now? To his exhibit. Your boss—”

Ed waves him off. “J.P.’s widow sent a half a dozen of those old jerseys. You said the warehouse was clean, right?”

“As a whistle,” Dean says.

Ed grins. “Your pops, you know. He’d be real proud of you boys, how you handled this thing.”

“Thanks, man.” Dean stands a little taller. “Comin from you, that means somethin.”

“I can’t pay you.” Ed grimaces. “Bossman thinks I’m full of shit, this ghost stuff.”

“Hey, it’s all right—” Sam starts.

“But what I _can_ do…” Ed fishes in a pocket. “John always liked the wrestling.” Pulls out two laminated badges. “I don’t know if he passed that onto you, but…”

“Seriously?” Dean just short of bounces.

“Got a show here, this weekend. You’ll be arena security, technically. All-access.”

“This is too much,” Sam says.

Dean elbows him. “This is awesome, Ed. Holy shit!”

*

Dean tosses Sam the keys, waggles eyebrows. “Don’t wait up!” He jogs to catch up with his new friend. Gorgeous—oughta be out of his league. Blade-sharp muscle definition and platinum blonde hair, pink and blue at the tips.

Gruff chuckle off Sam’s six. “He’s in over his head.”

Sam sighs, rolls eyes. “He likes it that way.”

“So. Got ditched, didya?”

Sam turns, looks up—which, doesn’t happen to him often. “I wouldn’t call it ditched. He’s always… looking for company.”

“Braun,” the big man introduces himself.

Sam grins. “I know.” He offers a handshake. “Sam.”

“Well how’ bout it, Sam? You… lookin for company?”

“Uh.” Sam blinks. Dean’s usually the one that gets the propositions.

Braun hooks an eyebrow. Looks Sam up and down and Sam does the same. Guy’s a side of beef. Thighs like tree trunks bulge in camo cargo pants. Massive shoulders, barrel chest. Wearing a t-shirt, printed with his picture and his catchphrase: _GET THESE HANDS_.

Sam swallows. Has to admit—for all the times he’s had a girl in his lap, over a table or up against a wall—he’s never been on the receiving end. Never met a guy big enough do it before. “What’d you have in mind?”

Braun moves on him, scary quick for his size. Long beard brushes Sam’s shoulder as Braun breathes, “How ’bout I take you downstairs and bounce you on my dick?”

Sam’s guts clench. “Yeah.” Breathier than he meant it. “Yeah I’m—”

“Sweet.” Braun takes off. Sam hustles after him.

Braun leads Sam to an elevator marked _Talent Only_. Security waves them through with a knowing look.

“Training room’s down here,” Braun says. “Oughta be empty. Most of us clear out fast after a show.”

“Cool,” Sam says. Thinks, _God I’m lame_.

Braun grins at him like a bear stalking a rabbit. “You don’t do this much, huh?”

“No,” he admits. No sense denying when it’s obvious.

“Don’t sweat it.” Braun slaps him on the back, rattles Sam’s teeth. “I’m gonna tear that ass up, but I’ll make it good.”

“Uh. Thanks?”

Braun laughs. Shakes the whole elevator car.

Doors swish open on a darkened hallway, deep under the arena. Braun heads through the tunnels. Doesn’t waste time, this guy. They pass through fire doors, don’t see another soul. Finally, Braun pulls up and types a code in an electric lock.

“After you.” He holds the door for Sam.

“Gentleman.” Sam grins.

Braun points to a tattoo on his arm. _Country Strong_, inside an outline of North Carolina. “My mama’d whoop my ass any other way.”

“She must be some woman.”

“Damn straight.”

Door shuts, lock clicks. Braun shoves Sam against it, goes right for his belt.

“You kiss?” Braun asks.

Nobody’s ever asked him that before. “Uh, sure?” Might as well get the whole experience.

Low chuckle and the next thing Sam knows, he’s making out with a WWE Superstar. Braun attacks with his mouth. Beard prickles, rakes as he plunges his tongue in, tears Sam’s fly apart and strokes him hard. Braun breaks, tugs Sam’s shirt off, then his own. Sam gasps. Glint in the low light, unmistakable: silver barbells through both nipples.

“Like those, do ya?” Braun grins.

Sam slides a hand up Braun’s side. “Can I—”

“Hell yeah! Anything you want.”

Sam brushes one with his thumb. Braun hums encouragement and Sam gets bolder. Rubs a circle, hard steel through firm flesh. Both hands now; Braun’s eyes close. Tongue peeks between his teeth. Sam cranes down, takes a nipple in his mouth and licks around the skin-warm metal. Braun groans, big chest rumbles. Curls a hand behind Sam’s head, fingernails light on his scalp.

“Feels good, man.”

And Sam could do this all night if the angle weren’t so bad. He slides his lips across and works the other. Teeth tease.

“Yeah,” Braun growls, “get in there.”

Sam locks on, sucks harder. Braun breathes fast and holds Sam to him. Reaches under and rubs Sam’s nipples. Sam moans, nods against him and he pinches, twists. Sam shakes.

“Fuck, you’re hot.” Braun pulls Sam’s hair. Drags him back against the door, exposed throat. Lips, then. Tongue and teeth and suction. Sam’s dick bobs and leaks where it sticks out. Braun jacks him, fist like a catcher’s mitt engulfs him. Braun works over Sam’s neck, down past his collarbone.

“Cool ink,” Braun says. “Mean somethin?”

“It’s uh… kind of a family thing.”

Narrow eyes.

“Like, a lucky charm.”

Braun nods like he doesn’t quite get it but respects it. Sam tips up his chin, licks lips. Braun takes the invitation. Handful of Sam’s hair, tilting his head around. Braun tongues deep.

And all at once Sam’s airborne. Arm under his ass, Braun hauls him up. Sam clings. Off his feet, he hangs on Braun’s huge shoulders; never breaks their kiss. Braun spins, carries Sam to a padded bench and sets him on his feet.

“Turn around.”

Sam shudders. Braun hooks his waistband, strips him to his knees. Hands on Sam’s cheeks, rubbing circles. Sam kicks out of his shoes and lets his jeans fall. Barely gets one leg free before Braun shoves him down. Sam spreads his feet.

That laugh again, dark rumble. “Want it bad, huh.” Thumb pets over Sam’s hole; Sam arches. “Real bad.” Braun splits him wide. Sam groans as Braun attacks his rim.

Fists bang the table. Braun slicks, sucks and works Sam open. Beard burns in his crack, tickles his balls. Tongue swirls; tip dips inside. Sam’s hips roll. Braun pulls on his cock, keeps him hard and drives him crazy.

Shivering. Goosebumps as Braun retreats. Big hand pins Sam, small of his back. Sam knows what’s next, tries to relax. Fingers, thick and slippery. One-two, almost right away. Sam grunts, grits his teeth and Braun holds him down, holds still while Sam adjusts.

He breathes out, pushes back and takes more. Braun twists. Cold slick drips on Sam’s hole and Braun works deeper. Sam rocks, fucks the air. Dick bangs the table and sock-feet slip. Braun moves in him, feels around until Sam yells. Pressure on his prostate, ache in his hole.

“Hungry little ass,” Braun mumbles. Finger fucks until it’s easy. Wriggles in a third.

Sweating, panting, Sam slides around on the vinyl cushion. Stuffed and stretched. Hair’s stuck to his face. Hands scrabble at the table’s edges. “C’mon,” to himself as much as Braun, “I can take it.”

“Yeah,” Braun breathes, vanishes. Leaves Sam a gaping, shaking, mess.

Cloth sounds, clinking metal. Then Braun gets Sam by a shoulder, spins and lifts and grinds their naked dicks. Scalding. Elbow hooks Sam’s leg and he’s on his back. Braun sacks up. Thick cockhead nudges, splits Sam’s cheeks. Sam squirms for it. Braun huffs a breath. Blunt. Wet. Fire where Sam opens, stretches. Sweat pours. Pulse pounds. Sam’s dick wilts, teeth grind and fists tear at his hair.

Braun grabs Sam’s hips, slides in slow, relentless. Sam bears down, moans ragged. Guy’s driving a truck up his ass and he needs it. Braun’s face snarls in concentration. Sam curls, brushes fingers over pierced nipples and Braun jerks.

Growls, “Gonna make me come ’fore I’m all the way in.”

Sam licks his lips. Legs spread, pelvis tilts and Braun sinks. Buried in him. Flaring nostrils, shining skin. He pitches forward, wraps Sam up. Trembling. Sam moves underneath him, heat and sparks and pleasure-pain.

Braun’s hold tightens. Veins and muscles bulge; he hoists Sam. Sam moans. Head falls back and he locks his arms behind Braun’s neck, grips with his legs. Sam’s cock rubs between their bellies as Braun swings him around. Plants him against the wall and smiles. Predatory.

Sam groans as they start to move. Eyes close. All his concentration goes to hanging on. He lets Braun bounce him, wedged between the cool, sweat-slicking wall and Braun’s heat, merciless. Thick pressure. Inside, out. Fucked so deep Sam thinks he could choke on it.

“Jerk yourself,” Braun says. “I gotcha.”

Angle change and Sam’s whole body spasms. Eyes squeeze, hand around his cock. Insides quake; makes Braun roar. Sharp smell of salt and sound of skin-on-skin. Sam’s head thumps drywall. Braun latches his mouth on Sam’s throat. Sam jolts. Grip almost slips.

“Go on, man, shoot on me.”

And Sam yells, shudders and blows. Spurts up their chests until his head spins—no, Braun spins him. Flips him over like he’s nothing, pins him to the table. Big hands seize him, dick rams in and Sam moans. Fucks back, best he can with shaky legs and wrung-out balls. Sensitive. Braun pummels him. Clipped groans as he saws in and out. Sam’s overwhelmed, fucked open, wrecked, and just before he starts to beg—

Empty. Fast slapping sounds and Braun’s hot come splashes his back. Bellow like to rattle the whole place and Sam shakes with a late aftershock.

Heartbeat slows. Breathing steadies.

“Hot, _damn_,” Braun says, off to Sam’s side.

He looks over and Braun’s laid out on a neighboring table. Hands folded behind his head and dick flopped soft on his belly.

“Yeah.” Sam laughs, a little dopey. Oughta try to move, not just lay here, soaked in jizz with his ass up.

“Took my dick like a boss.” Braun grins. “How ’bout you gimme your number? Lemme call you when we’re in town again.”

“I’m not… from here.” Genuine regret.

“Really.” Braun hooks an eyebrow, doesn’t ask about Sam’s security pass.

“I-uh, I live in Kansas.”

“Is that so.” Braun gets up, glint in his eye.

Sam makes himself stand. Sinks gingerly to a rolling stool.

Braun fishes his phone out of his crumpled pants. “We got a show in K.C. next month.”

Sam barely suppresses a shiver. “Is that so?”

Braun nods.

Sam gives him the number.

*

He squints against the morning sun pouring in with Dean through the motel door. Sam steels himself, gets set to hide how sore he is, get in the shower and get on the road.

“Go back to sleep,” Dean says, gravelly. “I got us another night.” He hangs out the _Do Not Disturb_ sign and salts them in. Makes his way to his bed, collapses.

Sam can’t help but notice, Dean’s looking a little wobbly himself.

“That Dana,” Dean rumbles. “What a woman.”

Sam laughs. He turns, burrows under the covers and gets comfortable. Falls asleep thinking about Kansas City.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a rib, a work, pure kayfabe. Please Braun don't fling me into space.


End file.
